She Could Be
by Marcella Jole' Mercilee
Summary: One day, while wandering the house, Belarus notices a rather... daunting portrait. And it gives her an evil idea that she is determined to see through.


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Hello my lovelies. Yes, I have a brand new story for you! With some characters that I am very unfamiliar with. A new adventure! But, I met this wonderful new girl, we'll name her Natalia for now, that inspired me and I had to write. So, I wrote this Belarus story. My first Belarus story. So, I hope she likes it and I hope you like it. Enjoy my lovelies...

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><p>She just stared. Yes, this girl was beautiful. Yes, she was innocent looking. But, she was better than a dead girl... wasn't she? The nation of Belarus stood under the large portrait, twirling her knife in her hands as she stared.<p>

She could be her. It would be easy... even if it would only be temporary. She could be her. She could... She looked down at her knife, the plan slowly taking form in her mind. The young princess had been dead for at least a century now... but she still haunted Ivan.

All Belarus wanted... was to see him smile at her again. His old smile. Ivan's smile. She looked back at the portrait slowly, her eyes wide and her hands still around the knife's handle. "I could... I could become Anastasia."

The words sounded blasphemous. They sounded wrong... Would she really consider changing her appearance to win the affection of her brother? She said them again, softer. "I could become Anastasia."

She only wanted him to hold her again. She wanted him to stay with her instead of running away like he often did. She could... cut her hair. She could ask Hungary to help her dye it... She knew how to sew. She could make a dress like that. She reached out and touched the hem of the painting's dress.

"I could become Anastasia."

Her mind was whirring with pros, cons, consequences, possibilities, hopes, and dreams. She took a shaky breath in and whispered it one more time.

"I could become Anastasia."

She ran up to her room, ignoring Ukraine's surprised yelp. She locked the door, tossing her knife onto the bed as she pulled random dresses out of her closet. She could do this. She could... She ignored Ukraine's desperate knocking and yelling at her door. It went away soon anyway.

She worked for hours, ripping and cutting and sewing and hemming. She didn't mind when she pricked herself with a needle. She ignored the blood. She ignored everything. The only noise that could be heard the room was the whirring of her sewing machine and her quiet mantra.

"I can become Anastasia. I can become Anastasia. I can become Anastasia."

The next morning, the dress was finished. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was close... She spun around and grabbed her knife. Any hesitation that she might have had at an earlier time was gone. She knew what she needed to do and she was going to do it. She was going to win back his love. She was going to become the apple of his eye. His little sister. His favorite... His.

She hacked her hair off perfectly, barely noticing the long locks of white hair as they fell to the ground. An hour later, she stared into the mirror, incredibly happy. She was so close... She took the dress off and hid her hair under a babushka.

She unlocked the door and silently moved through the house, avoiding everyone. No one needed to know what she was up to... She escaped, not looking behind her as she started running to Austria's house. She would be there... hopefully.

An hour later, she was wet and exhausted, but determined. She knocked firmly on the door, waiting patiently. A few moments later, a confused Hungary peeked out, looking around. "Ah, Belarus?"

She took one look at her and opened the door wide. "Bela! It's raining, quickly! Inside!" She ushered the smaller nation inside, looking around outside for Ukraine or Russia before closing the door. "Oh, you poor girl, come here." She removed Belarus' babushka before the smaller nation could protest.

Hungary froze, blinking. "Bela, did you cut your hair?"

Belarus looked up at her, expressionless. "Yes. That's why I'm here."

"Well, I can't fix it, if that's what you need." Hungary hung the babushka up and grabbed a blanket, walking over to wrap her in it motherly. "Come on. We'll put you in front of the fire..."

Belarus allowed herself to be escorted into the parlor, where there was a raging fire. It looks like Hungary had just been reading. She sat down on the floor in front of the hearth.

"Would you like something hot to drink, Bela?" Hungary pet her soaking wet hair gently, smiling.

But Belarus was having none of it. She knew what needed to happen and it needed to happen now. "No. I need you to dye my hair, please." She didn't even look at Hungary's reaction.

Hungary stared, completely confused. What was Belarus thinking? Didn't she know that he... "Bela, what are you talking about?"

"I need you to dye my hair, please. I am bored of this color." She looked up, completely determined. "I want it to be the color of... your hair."

Hungary stared at her, confused, but nodded. "Alright. Did you ask Ivan if it wa-"

"I don't need his permission! I'm independent now!" Belarus' eyes flashed a bit before she calmed back down. "I mean... no. No, he'll be fine with it. Trust me."

She looked back into the fire, her mind whirring with her plans again. Hungary stared for a long time before sighing. "All right... Let me go get some dye. You just stay here and get dry." She pat Belarus' shoulder gently before getting up and leaving.

Bela didn't move. But as she stared into the fire and as her plan started making even more sense in her mind, a small smile worked its way across her lips. "I can be Anastasia..."

A few hours later, Belarus stood in front of a mirror, admiring her now chestnut brown hair. It was... "Perfect. Thank you, Hungary." She turned slowly, happier than she could express.

The older country just nodded with a weak smile. "Well, it hasn't stopped raining. So why don't you stay here to-"

"Not necessary. I will be fine, thank you." Belarus walked out of the bathroom, going to the main foyer.

Hungary hurried after her. "Bela, no! Come on, you'll catch a cold if you go out there! Please stay here ton-"

"I am going home now, Hungary." She took her babushka and put it over her hair again. "Thank you." She opened the door and was gone before Hungary could protest again.

She held herself as she ran all the way home, through the pouring rain. She could do this... she was so close. So close... She climbed the wall of her home and landed in the mud on the other side. She gave a shuddering gasp as her ankle twisted the wrong way, but kept moving. She needed to keep going. She needed a blue ribbon... she always wore that damn blue ribbon.

Belarus snuck her way back into her room, closing the door quietly. No one even knew she had left... She stripped and dried her hair quickly, knowing how close she was. She grabbed her dress and pulled it on with a sigh. She turned and stared into the mirror, freezing. She was... so close.

"Blue ribbon." She turned her room upside down, growling in frustration. Red ribbon. Gold ribbon. Orange ribbon. Green ribbon... No no no! Where could she find blue ribbon?

She paused, remembering... he still had the blue ribbon. He had the very ribbon that she always wore... and she smiled, realizing that her dream... was only one trip down the hall away.


End file.
